The Munter
by Writing.Ragdoll
Summary: **Beatles fanfic** Sage O'Shea is a munter. A hardworking one, regardless. Sage interviews for a needed job as an accountant for: The "Beetles". While interviewing for the job she meets the contrasting beauty, Isabel Murdoch, a devilish character with her own vile agenda. Will the Beatles be blinded by Isabel's vain beauty? Or will they be able to see past Sage's munter appearance?
1. Chapter 1

Right, so since technically this is based on real people I had to change some names.  
I think it's pretty obvious who is who! Feel free to leave a review *heart*

* * *

Monday November 4th, 1963

The lights were bright and blinding. The Royal Command Performance was tonight, and it had sold out. People of all types, sexes and classes stood as this evening's audience. Women in the audience sobbed and pulled their hair, a sexual madness being liberated from their souls.

In their own private section sat: Queen Elizabeth II, Lord Snowdon and Princess Margaret. Even the British Monarchy had bothered to step down from their royal duties to witness this evening's performance.

The boys were feeling lively and they did what they knew they did best: they made music.

Dingo Stark sat with his drums his arms sore from keeping a lively beat up, head cheerily bobbing from side to side. George Harrisehn stood coolly holding his guitar, strumming along, a wide grin making way to his face; he still couldn't come to terms of where he was standing tonight. Poll Macartney sang along to "I Saw Her Standing There", tapping his foot and slightly bouncing as he played his bass. And Jon Lemon, well-

"Will the people in the cheaper seats clap their hands? And the rest of you, if you'll just rattle your jewelry!" he shouted wittily mid performance.

The crowd shouted even louder. On the bright side the thing about being blinded by the lights and deafened by adoring shrieks is that you can't even think about being nervous.

Just what was this madness beginning to unfold?

Little did they know that it was only the beginning of Beatle-mania...

The concert was a wild success. Even the Queen sent her congratulations and seemed pleased by the night's performance. So did the crazed fans that chased after the get-away car when the band exited through the stage's backdoor.

The after party followed. Jon was having the time of his life messing with some old geezer's that had arrived to the lavish penthouse party they threw. A pair of long legs that strolled in caught his attention. Nothing his wife would ever know about.  
Poll sat coolly in a love seat two cookie-cutter blonde models wrapped around his arms, laughing at his lame jokes and stroking his chest. George was drunk as a skunk and was uncharacteristically laughing loudly at some joke that Dingo made, at the same time he stuffed his face with a handful of finger sandwiches. Dingo was in the zone, the life of the party like always, cracking jokes, popping expensive bottles of champagne and dancing the night away. Nearby was an annoyed waiter who would've rather be asleep. The only thing keeping him awake at this late hour were the colorful bills that Jon kept stuffing in his pockets.  
He looked at growing zeros on the tab, which only continued growing before Dingo signed off on it. At this rate he'd never have to work another day in his life!

Little did they know that the four of them were about to receive a foul wake-up call.

* * *

Briant Epstone, the Beatle's manager, stood tall in his clean suit at 8:00 AM sharp. They were late. They were always late. Even Poll, who was usually the most noble out of the four, was late.

He had been phoning their homes all night and had been unable to find any of them. In the process he had even awoken Cynthea, Jon's wife, who was not pleased. It was after calling all of the five star hotels in London that he was finally able to get ahold of them. Of course, all four of them were together. George answered the phone in a groggy voice.

"You're late!" Epstone said angrily as the four finally strolled inside of the room- about thirty minutes later. Dingo was holding onto his blistering headache he stumbled from side to side as he walked still drunk. George seemed surprisingly alright, he wore dark sunglasses in order to hide his sleepy eyes and carried a bag of English muffins for breakfast. He was still wearing last night's outfit. Poll looked dead from lack of sleep his hair messy and sticking up in all directions.  
A shameless trail of hickeys branded his neck. Jon stomped in angrily not understanding why their manager had taken the time to phone them all up and had snitched to his wife on where he had actually spent the night.

"Do we have to do this so early?" groaned Dingo as he rubbed his tired eyes.  
"Oi, Georgie what are ya havin'?" Jon said hungrily eyeing the English muffing he was about to stuff into his mouth. He paused for a moment and the slightest grin made way to his face.  
"Not Poll, that's for sure," he chuckled glancing at the purple bruises on his neck.  
Poll's hand reached for his neck and he covered the love bites from the previous night. He flashed George an irritated look. Jon laughed and persisted on asking for a muffing. George retorted that he should've picked up muffins instead of home to change clothes. Dingo continued complaining-

"Enough!" Briant snapped on his last nerve. "I swear, the four of you. Just like children..." he shook his head on the brink of loosing his mind.  
'And their career is barely launching off...' he rubbed his temples stressed out.

There was a long table in the empty meeting room. The four men sat on one side of the table facing their manager and friend.

"If you are wondering why I have gathered you here on this fine morning-" he said before ripping open the blinds of a window allowing the white light to fill the room. All men but George flinched at the brightness of the unusual day in England.  
"It's because all four of you are completely out of control!"

Poll was about to protest, but Briant remained rambling.

"I know you boys are excited. Your careers are taking off, but you gotta remain in line. Don't loose control. Don't fall into vice so early in the game," he said roughly scolding his band. "And you know what else is out of control? Your finances!"  
This time none of them complained, it was true.  
"You're stirring hurricanes in mugs!" George protested annoyed.  
"Yeah- what's the big deal? We'll just draw more from the bank-" Dingo said casually.  
"And this is exactly why we have a problem," Briant sighed, shaking his head. He feared that if they continued spending and acting this way- well, their fame and fortune would be short lived. He would never forgive himself if that happened. Then again, he'd also be unemployed.

"So- all of you are here this morning because we are having interviews. We will be hiring an accountant to help you four with your finances (and teach you about how to use your money)."

The Beetles tidied up a bit and fixed their appearance ready for the interviews. The first interviewer that came in was a man that could've easily been Poll's grandpa. Jon didn't even give him a moment.  
"Next!" Poll shouted abruptly.  
"Yeah, if we wanted a porker around here we'd go to the butcher's instead! Oink! Oink!" he snorted before bursting out in a fit of giggles and high fiving Poll.  
The other sniggered like school children. The man gasped, apparently he was a highly renowned professor from Oxford and had just been compared to a swine. "Well I never-!" the man gasped and scurried out of the room with his folders.  
"Zip it! Lemon! This is not an audition. These people are professionals!"

Briant scolded Jon and the others and barked out that they were to be respectful. Other professionals came in. They all showed promise and years of experience. None caught the men's attention. It was then that the first woman came in her name was Dinah Davis. She seemed smart, she was average looking and had years of experience. But she had something that none of the other candidates did...  
The Beetles kept quiet as she spoke. Briant watching them carefully.  
It was then that George passed a note to Poll. Poll read it and smirked, then he wrote something on it and passed it to Jon.  
"Hired Ms. Double D," Jon said blatantly. The woman ran out of the room sobbing.

Briant warned Jon not to objectify any of these hardworking women. He was threatened that if he didn't keep his trap shut, bad things would come to him. Jon could be such a swine sometimes.

More came and went, but none were successful. Until one finally stole their hearts.

A red heel clicked as it stepped inside of the small office. The sound resounded Dingo's ears and he jumped in his chair standing up erect. George's eyes caught side of a long leg and a mini skirt. Jon's eyes trailed from the bottom of that heel all the way up to the plumped cleavage she was showing off. Poll almost lost his balance as he leant forward over the table head over heels. The woman before them could've been a model She was straight down the definition of sexy.  
She looked almost like she could be Bridgette Bardot's sister, a tall, blonde, bombshell. Poll covered his hickeys and flashed her a sly smile, and George removed his sunglasses.

She hadn't even introduced herself when Jon shouted "Hired!"

Briant rolled his eyes, "She hasn't even introduced herself!"  
"That comes later. Over dinner, perhaps?" Poll added with a wink.

The woman before them giggled and handed Briant her resume. "Isabel Murdock," he read the title. In her resume he observed some experience and recommendations, but nothing out of this world. Most of it consisted on modeling jobs, there was nothing in accounting or finance. He looked at the way that the men were hungrily looking at the woman and the flirtatious looks she was giving them back. This was a bad idea. This woman was completely under qualified and she had gotten hired on the spot over professors from Oxford because Lemon was thinking with his boner.

Briant sighed. He rubbed his temples in frustration. So many professionals had come and gone and they were going to settle, for her. He didn't know what to do. And so he prayed for a miracle. He looked up at the dirty roof pleading his God for a sign, anything, or anyone that could take care of this issue. His prayers were answered and he suddenly heard a door slam and saw pages fly up in the air. His eyes snapped down back to reality and he saw a woman on her knees in the ground struggling to grab all of her papers, security attempting to hold her back. Half of her dress was soaking wet and her hair was a tangled mess.

"Miss! You are late, no more interviews," one of the guards said escorting her out.  
"Wait-" Briant called. He looked at the woman's panicked face.  
"Let her in. Show us what you've got darlin', yes?" he said carefully. Could this be the miracle that he had asked for?  
Isabel, the tall blonde, whom stood in the middle of the room hands on her tiny waist brought a hand to her face to hide her cruel laughter.

"T-Thank you," the shy woman said coyly. Terribly embarrassed after having faceplanted in the initial second of her interview.

Dingo pretended not to look. George made a face. Poll's eyes went wide and Jon's mouth was agape. For the first time in what seemed to be forever he had gone mute. How was it possible for someone to look like that?!

If anyone in the British kingdom was the fitted definition of a munter it was her. She was a munter, word origin from the word monster. She was a woman of such hideous physical appearance that one would rather scour ones eyes out than snatch any glimpse of her.

The woman that had just come in had dark brown hair, her skin was stained with freckles, she was wearing absolutely no make-up and a pair of thick, massive glasses which hid her eyes from prying ones. Her brows were thick, hair bushy and to top it all she was dressed like Dingo's grandmother!

Amongst other flaws...

"Good-good afternoon," she managed. "My name is Sage O'Shea," she said meekly. The model standing next to the short woman looked down at her with apathy. There was no absolute way that she was getting this job.

She spoke about her resume, and how she had graduated as the top of her class and proceeded to explain what her experience was and how she had worked as one of the main account runner for a local clothing store for years until it closed down.

Jon visibly cringed at her appearance. Poll raised both of his brows in horror at her looks 'Had anyone ever told her what she looked like?' he mused.

"We'll I'd say our decision has been made, yes lads?" Briant said smiling proudly at the woman wearing the bulky sweater that deformed her. The dirty water that had splashed her only made her appearance worse. She was perfect. She had the brains and she wasn't what you would consider a "looker" meaning that there would be no distractions.

"It seems so," Poll said through a thin, impolite smile.  
"Yeah- Ms. Murdoch welcome to the team," Jon clapped his hands a wide grin on his face. Isabel flipped her perfect, golden hair over her shoulder and smiled with her perfect pink Miss Universe lips. The other one allowed a loud gasp her knees shaking slightly. She looked at the faces of the four men sitting in front of her.

In the eyes of the handsome men, she was invisible.

Without another word she quickly scurried out of the room. She was outside of Abbey Road studios when she collapsed on the cold front steps no longer being able to stand up. Tears immediately poured out of her eyes like rivers down her cheeks. The day she had had. Waking up late, running to the interview, being robbed of her breakfast on the way, getting splashed by a passing car, tackled by security and then collapsing in front of four of the most important musicians of the day.

What was she to do now? What would her life be like?  
She knew that she wasn't pretty enough to marry and what had been the whole point of all her efforts of her being the number one in her class if no one would hire her? This had been her fifth interview and still there was nothing. What would she tell her mother? What was she going to do? And with the rent coming up...

She clenched her fist as she furiously wiped her tears. It was always the same.

Anger boiled in the pits of her stomach. That other woman...  
Despite having zero experience, she had gotten the job on the spot, just for being pretty. The situation was infuriating. It wasn't fair...

It was then that she heard shift footsteps and suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder.  
"I'll be on my way security," she answered automatically sniffling, furiously wiping away her hot tears.

"Wait," It was Briant their manager. He kindly pried his eyes away from the hideous woman. "Hey, we're not done with you," he said placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

They returned upstairs. Sage kept on whispering apologies for her tears as she wiped them from her red, puffy, face. She stepped in before Briant. Even more embarrassed and nervous than the first time.

"Very well then," Briant clapped his hands together. "I think we've decided that we will be hiring both Ms. Murdoch, and Ms.-" He glanced at the brunette expecting an answer. "We have made a decision?" Jon scoffed under his breath to George who was sitting next to him. "He practically decided to bring in that horrid thing!"

George allowed an amused snort to escape his nose.

"O'Shea, Sage O'Shea," she repeated her name. "Ah, we have an Irish woman amongst us," Briant mentioned in an attempt to alleviate the awkward tension in the room. The mousy woman simply shrugged not liking the attention she was receiving. She didn't even bother in correcting him.

"So, since we will have two accountants I think it's best that we split up accounts, two and two? How does that sound? One of you takes two of the boys; the other takes the other two-"  
"Oi-Yeah, I'll have the lush one?" Jon called out barbarically in front of both of them. Isabel simply allowed a charming laugh to flirt with Jon. His words felt like daggers digging into Sage's skin. She crossed her arms over her chest feeling even more insecure. For a moment she hesitated in weather she should take the job or not.

"Jon!" Briant hissed dangerously. Not that Jon even cared. He simply mouthed a 'what?'

Poll nodded, his eyes fixed on the blonde "Second that."  
"Not fair," Dingo muttered under his breath annoyed.  
"I guess it's settled then, I'll keep an eye on Jon and Poll's accounts, and- what was your name? And Snoopy over here will take George and Bingo's," she smiled and clapped her hands. "It's Dingo," he coughed loud enough for her to hear. He was insulted. "Right, Ringo," the blonde absentmindedly repeated his name wrong, _again_. No one seemed to notice or even bothered correcting Isabel from calling Sage the name of a dog or Dingo by the wrong name. It didn't seem to matter to them. Even she didn't dare stand up to the beautiful woman. Dingo slightly frowned.

Briant went over some of the details for the schedule in which the women would work and what their accounting and mentoring duties consisted on. The Beetles introduced themselves to the women, Poll charmingly kissing Isabel's hand and awkwardly nodding in Sage's direction. Jon didn't even introduce himself to Sage! Only George and Dingo had the decency of doing it like proper human beings. Than again, they were going to be the one's working with her. Then they left.

Both women signed some official documents and Briant reminded them how lucky they were. He had to step out of the room to make some copies leaving just Isabel and Sage alone in the office room.

Sage sat slouched over, with her nose buried in some of the papers that Briant had given them. She pretended like Isabel wasn't sitting next to her towering in height, grace and beauty.

"Listen, I don't know what you pretend you are doing," Isabel said leaning back on her chair. Sage only looked at her with her eyes wide.

"It's obvious that this is going to be a competition and if I were you I'd give up now, before things get ugly. Not like it makes a difference to you!" Isabel laughed cruel. Savoring every bit of her mean taunting.

Sage remained composed. The taunting wasn't anything new to her. She knew she was ugly and damn did people make sure that she was aware of that fact. "What? Don't tell me you don't even have the spine to retort something; anything clever, please?" she words rolled off her tongue in a bored tone.

Deciding on being the bigger person Sage bit her tongue.

"Sticks and stones might break my bones, but words will never break me," she said lamely. Just further igniting Isabel's pleasure. She prayed that Briant would return back to the room just so that Isabel could quit her provocations and she'd be safe again.

"Who taught you how to say that? Your mummy?" She proceeded pressing all of her right buttons.

"It's not my fault that you're under qualified and must take out your insecurities on me," she said in a calm tone exhaling a sigh. It was a simple non-threatening phrase, but it was just enough to send Isabel over the edge. Which was something that Sage had not intended to do-

"Underqualified?" she coughed in disbelief. "Are you implying that I'm some sort of gold digging slag?"

The mousy woman blinked twice confused.

"Hey, you said it, not me," Sage raised both of her eyebrows in amusement before shaking her head and turning back to her papers.  
"Well, if I were you I'd mind my own business!" Isabel snapped. "And I'd wax that horrid mustache off your horrid face. The Dalí look has been out for years," she said pleased with her petty insult.

Sage's hand insecurity reached for the edges of her lips. Isabel sniggered as the other woman glared.

For different reasons, each with their own personal agenda, both decided to take the job.


	2. Chapter 2

Tuesday, November 5th, 1963

Sage returned home right past six. The sky had already darkened and the autumn chill had settled on London. She felt a cold coming over her, being soaked by the muddy water and the bitter wind did not aid her health. She walked inside of her home and removed her home-knitted gloves and hat.

"Mum, I'm home," the twenty year old said as she closed the old door behind her.  
"Good lord Sagey, get out of those clothes before you catch a fire!" Her mother greeted her and began removing her wet coat and scarf with her one arm, which wasn't broken.  
"How did it go dear?" she asked kindly.  
"I got the job," she said in a muted tone. Despite it she smiled so that her mother wouldn't worry. Her mother clapped eagerly and kissed both of cheeks.  
"Oh! Bless! That is great news! We will be able to pay the rent soon then," she sighed in relief. Sage simple nodded agreeing. Her mother noticed that there was something off...

"Sage? Did any of those men try pulling a quick one on you? I don't want you getting cozy with any of those scoundrels." Her mother scolded. "Ugh and their haircuts, dreadful," she added in disgust at the trendy bowl haircuts that the Beetles wore.  
She looked at the older woman with watery eyes. "Mum, you gotta stop sayin' that. You know that I'm not pretty. I'm practically invisible. I can assure you they won't even bother looking at me-" she shrugged her off as she walked to the kitchen to brew herself some warm tea.  
"You want to be a pretty girl?" the mother snapped. "I was a pretty darlin' back when I was your age and look what that got me," she said darkly.  
The younger woman just turned to look at her with eyes filled with pain.  
"Your no good father saw a 'pretty girl' and after the damage was done he jumped ship back to America. So if you want to be a 'pretty girl'- think again," her mother frowned with a demeaning look.

Sage look at her mother, a plump woman with a broken arm which had cost her employment position as a 20 plus many years of being a seamstress. She had her same bushy brown hair that she kept short and dark brown eyes. But her face features were different, a small round nose and a pair of fat lips and faded freckles, which coated her age formed wrinkles. Sage had seen pictures of her mother in the 1940's and she had been quite a looker. She had met her father, an American soldier who had been stationed in Britain during the war, their affair was brief and as far as Sage knew he had no idea that part of him was alive and breathing in Britain.  
Magda had raised Sage as a bastard child; then again, in those days she wasn't the only one.

...

It was Wednesday. she sat in the offices lobby. Her hands kept busy as she cautiously knitted a small hat. Briant Epstone stepped out of his office and walked towards the lobby where Sage was currently sitting.

"Sage! We've been waiting for you for quiet a while!" He exclaimed. When he realized that she was knitting he stopped dead in his tracks and looked at her tiny hat.  
"For my godson," she said bashfully.

'Of course she knitted. She just couldn't become any duller. An accountant, who dresses like a grandma, and knits- well there was something you had never seen before.' Briant though sarcastically.

"I'm sorry I was told to wait," she said with a sigh. "By whom?" Epstone retorted confused cocking an eyebrow up. "By..." Sage briefly remembered the man who told her to wait for Briant. She had seen him earlier in the morning- flirting with Isabel outside of the building...  
She suddenly felt her blood boil in annoyance, she had gotten her again. She exhaled the breath she had been holding and followed Briant in to the heart of his managing office. From afar he saw Isabel sitting in a huge desk right outside of Briant's office- almost like a guard dog. His secretary was on the side opposite to hers.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but since you got here late it seems like Isabel will be sitting in the front desk." He said sighing 'Looking the way you look we can't have you sitting at the front either' he thought to himself. Sage bit her tongue. From her desk Isabel winked at her and waved casually.  
That fucking bitch... Sage gritted her teeth. "So, where will I be working then?" She asked concerned. Briant retorted with a quick "follow me" and together they made way to his office. Sage glared at the blonde sitting on the mahogany table that was supposed to be her desk. She knew that Isabel was smart enough to take advantage of a situation and take the nice desk leaving her with the crappy one in front of Briant.  
She was so centeredon glaring at Isabel and focused on why she had been so foolish, that she didn't notice Poll, who was always early, leaning over Isabel's desk shamelessly flirting with her. He was about to ask her out when his foot which was crossed under the other sticking out happened to trip the other accountant. Sage clumsily stumbled to the floor face planting before Briant, Poll, Isabel, two of the other Beetles who were just walking in as well as the rest of Briant Epstone's staff. Isabel made no effort to hide her malicious laughter. Sage felt her entire body feel numb from the hard slam against the tile floor reaching for her face she realized that her glasses had fallen off as well. She got on her knees and began frantically searching for them when she heard a loud crack reach her ears, that's when she knew that they were a done deal. She turned her head, still kneeling on the ground and saw Poll reach for the glasses under his foot and hand them to her.  
"Oh sorry about that," he said sincerely stretching out his hand to give her the thick, broken glasses with cracked glass.  
She pursued her lips and took the glasses from him quickly slipping them back up the long bridge of her nose. Poll said nothing just blinked twice slightly surprised. Without another word she left with Briant.  
Poll cleared his throat feeling slightly uncomfortable, he mumbled something about getting some tea and hurriedly left the room. Isabel didn't seem to care. It was then that George and Dingo approached her desk and simultaneously greeted her. Both had bedroom eyes and looked at her with the same lustful look that Jon and Poll gave her.  
"Hi George," she said batting her eyelashes at him. "Pingo," she said more seriously pursuing her lips.  
George was about to retort when he was interrupted by Dingo.  
"You know to call me Dingo, why do you pretend you don't?" Dingo snapped, his eyes zoning into Isabel Murdock's brown ones.  
"It just won't stick," she said shrugging him off with an impolite smile. "If it won't stick, then call me Richard. Like my mother," he said grumpily before following George inside of Briant's office.

Sage was speechless. If she thought that it was bad enough to be working in a crappy desk in front of Briant's, the only thing worse was to be working in a crappy broken down desk inside of Briant's closet?!  
"I know it's small... We had to clean up and take a lot of boxes out, but I think it's an improvement. Don't you think?" Briant asked while leaning on her chair, in that instant the chair collapsed. This had got to be a joke.  
He smiled nervously and scurried off to find a replacement chair. Shaking her head Sage stood around her desk. She placed the few belongings that she had brought with her and proceeded to attempt to fix her broken glasses. She tapped them and they feebly hung down her nose. Her vision divided into the many crack snaps splits that made her feel almost as if she was looking through a kaleidoscope.

"Where's Eppy?" Asked Jon as he finally arrived to Briant's office. He was dressed casually and removed his coat plopping himself down on a sofa chair.  
"Went to get a chair or something," George muttered absent mindedly as he ate a Hershey chocolate bar.  
"Yeah? The git must be running off," said Jon licking his lips. "Got me into a lot of trouble with Cyn for sneaking off the other night," he said shaking his head.

Unknowingly to them from the inside of Briant's storage closet an ear pressed against the wall listening carefully. The person debated whether she should leave the room or not.

"Serves you right for being a wanker," Dingo grumbled as he kept busy by playing with his many rings.  
"Well aren't you in a charming mood this morning, eh?" Lemon said sarcastically. Dingo simply rolled his blue eyes insecurity overcoming him. "Lads can I ask you an honest question?"  
"Only if you want a false answer," grinned George between bites.  
It took Dingo a couple of moment of bracing himself before he could bring himself to ask.  
"Am I... Am I ugly?" He said slowly.  
Jon and George exchanged a look before bursting out in fits of loud laughter  
"Does it matter?" Jon said still laughing "You're a Beatle, birds will flock to you regardless of your mop, mug or trabs. Makes me regret hitching off so early," Jon comment before pretending to busy himself as he doodled on a random notepad from Briant's desk.  
"Let's just say there's a reason why you're the funny Beatle," George said with a teasing grin. His large teeth and mouth all dirtied with the chocolate he was eating.  
"Ya, take it from the handsome muppet ova there," Jon quipped returning to his usual obnoxious tone.  
"It's just that, there's this one bird," Dingo began. The thought of Isabel's sly pink lips made him tense up.  
"She won't even bother remembering my name."  
"She likes you," Jon said in a funny high pitched schoolboy voice as he continued his drawing. "Probably being a tease, ya know?" He resumed normally. "Like-"  
It was then that Poll walked into the office room, he removed his scarf and coat and plopped himself in a sofa near the door. The others greeted him.  
"As I was saying-" Lemon continued. Adding the final touches to his doodle.  
"I'd be worried Rings- if you looked like this!" He showed off his drawing proudly.  
"What is that?" George asked cocking his head in an attempt to decipher what the hell Jon's drawing was supposed to be. "It's that Munter that Briant hired. I swear I've seen prettier blokes in drag," he gagged as he looked at the drawing.  
The hideous drawing consisted in a dark deformed scribble with massive glasses that fell off the sides of the face followed by hair sticking out in all directions. In all honesty it looked like nothing but a random scribble.

"Exactly!" Dingo exclaimed. "What if I I'm the Munter of the band?"  
George rolled his eyes and told him to shut up growing annoyed of Dingo's whining.  
"It's the nose isn't it?" He retorted sadly as he touched his face.  
"Your beak is fine," Jon rolled his eyes. "That monster on the other hand? It has to be born again, just to look decent," Jon snorted cruelly.  
George couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head. Jon was just too much sometimes. Dingo sulked and Poll remained quiet his hand pressed to his mouth in a pensive matter. "Eh? What's up with you Macca?" Jon asked as he noticed his uncharacteristic behavior.

Unknowingly to the men un the room, in the door opposite to them Sage leaned against her desk a hand brought to her mouth as she attempted to quiet down her gasp. She couldn't believe what she had just heard... She knew she was ugly, as previously stated it was something that people would not allow her to forget; however, for Jon to be such a pig...  
She had no idea just how cruel he could be. For a moment she wondered if that was just the way that everyone was to her behind her back. She wiped off the fat tears that were beginning to stream down her face and she took in some deep breaths. It was then that Briant stepped in and handed her the unbroken chair he had promised her.  
"Fellas, this will be Sage's new office," Briant announced.  
It was at the tip of her tongue. It was about to slip. Five letters, two precious words. It was as easy as that: I quit.

When the four men met her eyes and saw her red cheeks and agape mouth, they knew that she had heard them. Her brows were in a frown and her eyes were the same as her glasses. Broken.  
Without another word she scurried out of the office. "Think she heard us?" George said swiftly as he finished his chocolate bar. Jon rolled his eyes and tossed the crumpled drawing tossing it at him like a ball. Poll remained pensive with his hand covering his mouth. Dingo sulked.

Outside Isabel couldn't resist taunting Sage.  
"Gone so soon?" She asked as she sat looking pretty with an empty desk.  
Sage stopped in her tracks and couldn't help but to smirk at Isabel.  
"I hope you enjoy your taunting Isabel, because when the times comes to balance accounts and work with taxes. Maybe I'll still be ugly, but I know you'll definitely be fired," Sage smiled shrugging her shoulders before walking a little taller that day.


	3. Chapter 3

Friday, November 22, 1963

It had been a couple of weeks since Sage and Isabel had began the employment for Briant Epstone, more importantly, for The Beetles.  
In their time there they had witnessed history. The band had just released their second album in the UK With the Beetles. The album had been such a success that it had kicked their first album from the number one position. Their hit song "All My Loving" was currently playing on the stereo of Dacey's Delights where Sage was patiently waiting for her turn. The song upset her, it reminded her of Lemon and of just how awful he was. She wore her knitted scarf and warm clothes. Her fingers tightly gripped the gift bag she was currently holding. She looked at the long line and then at her watch and debated whether she should stay or just leave. Then she realized that in the line stood a familiar face.  
George looked particularly startled when his eyes met her broken glasses. She flashed him a simple tight lipped smile and raised her hand up in a wave. He did the same and she was surprised when he advanced and joined her in the front of the line.  
"Mind if I join ya?" He asked with a coy grin.

Sage simply nodded her head and allowed one of her clients? Superior? Boss? Whatever he was, cut behind her. She ignored him and focused her eyes on the dark wavy haired cashier at the front.  
"So- you come here often?" She was taken back that George was actually making an effort for conversation.

"Yeah," she answered non challantly. "It's my favorite bakery," she added shortly after deciding to attempt to be friendly. She smiled slightly at him.  
George internally cringed, he didn't want to be mean, but- damn, she really was a hideous munter.  
"Yeah, they have the best bloody scones in all of London," he exclaimed looking at the front of the line excitedly. "They're good with a cuppa tea for keeping warm. It's like the Baltics out there. I can't wait for it to be warm again, so I can have lolly ices again," he said in one breath. She looked at him confused having no idea what he had just said. "Ah, right. You're not from the northwest right?" She simply shook her head. "I usually don't have any trouble since the lads all just picked up the same words, except for Dingo."  
"So, you and the others go way back then?" She inquired as they stepped forward in the line. George began telling Sage how him and Poll went way back and how they had met Jon who put the band together and then he joked about how they stole Dingo from another band cause they had a good lad who was a bad drummer named Pete Best. "Dingo is our drummer and he's not even the best drummer in the band!" He laughed. "Well at least that's what Jon says," he noticed the way she stiffened whenever he mentioned Jon.  
"I know Jon's an arshole," he said with his hands buried deep inside of his pockets. "But he's not half bad once you get to know him. He doesn't mean half the crap that comes out of his mouth."  
"And the other half?" She said cocking a thick eyebrow up.  
Then it was their turn. George looked at the cashier before them. His heart began hammering in his chest. Hands sweaty. She was the same one that he came to see every morning and the same one that kept him up at night in his dreams.

"Sagey?" She asked eagerly almost jumping over the counter. Her long black curls bobbing as she did. Bright blue eyes sparkling with the same joy she shared with her customers every single day. But what he loved most about her as her smile.  
He was taken aback when she went around the counter in order to embrace the Munter. "Sagey! Where have you been?!" She asked in the hug. Her American accent was completely distinguishable.  
"Working I'm afraid,"'she said casually. "Working! Ah! You just have to tell me where!" She reached for her arms giving them a tight squeeze. That's when she noticed the gift bag that she was holding onto. "I made this for my darling Godson. Hope he's not too big and it still fits him."  
The peppy woman pulled out a knitted outfit and a small cap that Sage had made for her Godson. She was speechless. Sage couldn't help but grin, her enthusiasm was always contagious.  
One of the great things about Lori Tomlinson Dacey was that she'd absolutely loved every single gift or anything you gave her. She would always say "it's the thought that matters!"  
"It's beautiful," she nodded and gave Sage another hug.  
"We have to catch up soon. But for now, I gotta work!" She said sheepishly grinning at the long line of customers.

'She knew her?!' George was taken a back. The Munter was intimate friends with her?! She was just full of surprises. He didn't realize that he had slapped the money on the counter. "Hers on me," he said quickly as in word vomit. The cashier smiled at him, he felt as if he was going to faint.  
"Thanks Lorelei," Sage sang taking her scone with her. George stood there like a fool his eyes glued on Lori's smiling face.  
"See ya George," she added flatly before leaving the place. She didn't even introduce them!  
"W-Wait!" George called as he grabbed the bag of muffins from the counter and chasing after his accountant.

"Hey!" He said. His breath visible in the chilly morning air.  
"You don't have to do that," she said as she quickened her pace as she made her way to Briant's office. "Do what?" He retorted.  
"Buy me my scones, pretend to like me," she sighed. "Don't worry. I'm not paid to be friends or even like you or any of the others."  
"I was just being nice," George said upset. "No, no you weren't. You saw me and used me to get ahead in line and now you want me to introduce you to my friend right?" He only glared at her. "You're not the first or the last," she said turning away from him and continuing her trip to the office.  
"Wait-" George said once again this time he held her arm making her stop.  
"I'm sorry," he breathed. "I'm sorry that Jon's an arsehole to you, that Dingo will be rude to you so he can please the other one (Isabel) and that Poll is just-" George cringed. "He pretends like I don't even exist!" She barked angrily.

Every single time she ran into Poll Macartney it was the same thing. He would either avoid her, look the other way or simply brush past her without another word. At least Lemon bothered commenting on her broken glasses.

"Right, and I'm just as bad for not doing anything to stop it." George raised both of his hands up I defeat. "Start from zero?" He said with a small grin offering his stretched out hand for her to shake. Hesitantly she reached for it and wrapped her fingers around his. George grinned broadly.  
"Alright, it's set. I want you to know that our privileged friendship allows us to cut in line anywhere and with anyone," he said still grinning as he stuffed his face with a muffin. It seemed like all he did was eat!  
"George, snap back to reality, you're a Beatle. You don't need to cut in line," she rolled her eyes. "Me on the other hand well, I'm just the Munter," she shrugged her shoulders pitifully. "Well, at least you're honest!" George teased as she playfully shoved him in the sidewalk.

...

Both finally reached the office. On their way there George explained to Sage a little bit more in detail of what the band did. He told her about the strenuous hours of recording in the studio, the other hours practicing, song writing and the touring or giving shows that they had to do. Sage was surprised, her entire life she had been blinded to think that the life of a musician was an easy one. It was not.  
On the way to the studio George was harassed by many fan girls who wanted to take a lock from his hair or give him their knickers to sign (or keep).  
"Thank God I'm ugly," Sage had muttered to herself when she saw George struggling with his crazed fans.

George and Sage walked into the heart of the offices smiling and laughing. Seeing this made Isabel's stomach churn uneasily. "Oh hi George!" She jumped on her heels and ran towards him immediately wrapping her arms around his neck. Geez! She was almost as bad as his fan girls. "I missed you," she said in a sultry tone. Her attempt to hypnotize him failed. "Hi," he muttered under his breath. "Yeah I'm late for a meeting," he said brushing her off politely.  
Isabel cursed. That stupid, hideous woman was beginning to sabotage her plans!  
"What do you look so damn pleased about?" She suddenly snapped at the brunette who was standing by the door with a sly grin.  
"Nothing," she said suspiciously, "I just hope that you are ready for today, because our reports are due," Sage smiled maliciously as her. She was just as bad as Isabel. She tapped her dancing fingers on the beige carpet she was holding.  
Isabel cursed once again.  
"What do you want?" Isabel suddenly snapped. "Do the reports for me and I'll give you whatever you want," she pleaded taking Sage back by surprise.  
"Thank you really, but thankfully I don't need anything," she stated dully. "The only thing I want is to earn a living and pay off some debts," she turned around and made way to the office.

Isabel felt her blood run cold. She had been so focused on other task that she had forgotten the main one. Her reports. Shit.

Today would be a happy day. Sage was confident in her financial advise and her accounting abilities which would certainly overshadow Isabel's and Briant would give her the boot. She walked into Briant's office walking a little taller, just like the other day. Poll and George were both sitting in one of the sofas. As soon as she walked into the room Poll ceased laughing and went dead quiet. 'Geez, he must really hate me,' she thought to herself. George elbowed him and gave him an odd look. He turned to face Sage across the room and discretely made a shrugging motion with his shoulders.

"Still wearing those glasses?" Briant commented as she made way inside of his small office.  
"I'm saving for new ones, have to pay my rent first you know?"  
'And the outstanding debt for my mother's medical expenses have accumulated' she thought to herself bitterly. "If any number on your report is wrong today-" Briant threatened with wary eyes.  
"I know, I know," she nodded "But I can assure you I'm an efficient worker, with or without my glasses," she smiled at him before making her way to her tiny closet office.  
"Sage, meeting room in a quarter of an hour, we'll be going over yours and Isabel's reports." Sage nodded.

Inside of her small office she did a little dance cheering while jumping up and down. There was no doubt, Isabel was not going to be able to present her reports and she'd get the boot. The evil had been defeated.  
She sat in her desk gathering her supplies ready when she opened the first drawer and found a small box inside.  
It was a small white box that she could hold with both of her hands. It had a simple blue ribbon wrapped and tied with a bow at the top. It was a present.  
In the edge of her desk was a framed picture of Frank Sinatra.  
Since Sage had never met her father, she liked keeping a picture of Frank around in order to pretend that he was him. She knew it wasn't true, but sometimes pretending makes people feel better. Besides, they were both American, right?  
"This must be a prank... I can't wait to see what's inside, a mirror?" She said to Frank's framed picture.  
Placing the box in the desk she began to disarm it as if it was a ticking bomb.  
She removed the bow carefully and then removed the small lid even more carefully. She braced herself for whatever could be inside of the mysterious white gift box.  
A stink bomb? A dead rat? Cosmetics? A secret admirer prank perhaps? It wouldn't not be the first time for any of the previously mentioned scenarios happened...  
"Lets see what've you got for me Isabel," she finally opened it. She peered in and saw that the contents were wrapped in a thin decorative paper.  
Then inside them was-

"A pair of glasses?" She was completely taken back.

She held the black rimmed elegant glasses in her hands as she eyed them carefully. They were designer eye glasses, dark and slick, anything unlike the bulky cracked pair that was being held together by tape. There was no note from who it was from. 'Isabel wouldn't be able to afford this. But what if she stole it and wants to incriminate me?'  
Sage debated whether she should wear the new glasses or not.  
"Well- maybe if I just try them on?" She slipped them on and wow what a huge difference they made!  
Even the world seemed to change color. Everything look brighter, sharper, cleaner. There was no way she could go back to wearing the broken ones. She figured it had probably been Briant. As her boss he was probably concerned about the efficiency of her work. She made a mental note to thank him later.

She stepped out ready with her documents and her fancy new glasses. When they reached the meeting room Briant was sitting at the head of the table discussing finances with other men whom Sage could only assume were his financial advisers.  
Isabel sat in a chair uneasy. Even her short skirt and sexy low cut shirt wouldn't be able to save her from this one. She was so nervous she didn't even bother to comment on Sage's new glasses, but Jon did.  
"Nice glasses four eyes," he said teasingly as Sage sat down with a George and Dingo.

Jon was sitting on another part of the long table, he could be such a child sometimes. Isabel and Poll were sitting with him. Poll actually turned and saw her new glasses.

"Oh shut it Lemon, you have the same bloody glasses," George called from the other side of the room.  
"Jon wears glasses?" Dingo asked.  
"Hates wearing them, hates it when people see him wearing them even more," George explained. Sage flashed him a thankful smile.  
"I never noticed that your eyes were green," he commented leaning in closer to look at her emerald color eyes. "Yeah" she said removing her glasses and polishing them.  
"I have a tired vision, my head starts hurting if I don't wear them."  
"Yeah. They are nice, I like 'em" even Dingo commented. He only did so to get a reaction out of Isabel who was frantically writing notes on a paper not even minding Lemon-Macartney in front of her.

Briant then stood up as the other men left the room and he proceeded to call Sage and Isabel to the front of the table to pick up the paycheck which could be their last. The blonde's hands were trembling as she did.

"Oh, and thank you for the glasses Briant," Sage said kindly.  
His brows furrowed as he gave her a confused look. "What are you talking about?" He said eyeing her curiously. Sage's mind went blank. It could've been anyone inside or outside of this office. She looked at Isabel who was sweating bricks, it definitely wasn't her. She would've bee cherishing the moment if she had planned something vile.  
Returning to her seat she began to explain to a George and Dingo what they should invest in, how to protect their assets, legally decrease their taxes and more. Briant listened carefully, so did George and Dingo nodding and asking questions about accounting terms.

Then it was Isabel's turn. She looked at the numbers on her sheet and saw complete gibberish. She could not make sense out of even what meant to balances assets with liabilities and equity, the simplest accounting equation.

"Um..." she stuttered. Jon and Poll starred at her blankly. It was obvious she had no idea what she was doing. This was it. Briant did not look happy. Dingo observed with worry, if only there was something he could do for her...

"It's not her fault," an unexpected voice spoke in her defense. They all turned to look at Sage with wide eyes. Even Briant was surprised, they all knew that Isabel wanted her gone from the job and insulted her whenever she could.  
"What?" Briant drawled out confused.  
"The other day Isabel phoned me to check on some accounting formulas, she misunderstood what I said and realized the numbers were wrong today." She lied through her teeth.  
Isabel's eyes went as wide as saucers. "Formulas? But she should have those memorized already!" Briant exclaimed.  
"True," Sage continued. "But she was dropped on her head as a child, which is why her memory is just awful. She can't even remember Dingo's name! Imagine that," she shook her head. "Is that right?" Briant inquired with his arms crossed over his chest.  
"Yeah-Yes!" She exclaimed placing her palms on the table and regaining he composure. "It's true, all of it."  
"I'd say it's best if Isabel returns to her desk to correct her... mistake, meanwhile I could read the numbers and give some advice to Jon and Poll."

Briant clearly knew that Sage didn't like Isabel. She had no reason to defend her or less lie to him and put her job on the line. He knew that it wasn't like her.  
"Very well then," Briant simply shrugged and allowed her to leave the room.  
"But you best have your report first thing tomorrow morning Ms. Murdock!" He barked. Before leaving she flashed Sage a grateful look. She did not return it.  
'I hope I don't regret this..' she thought to herself.  
George and Dingo stepped out of the meeting room. Briant left to scold Isabel, often times he felt like he was more of a father than a manager.

"So, why'd you do it eh? Sagey?" Jon said last leaning over and across the table.  
"Do what?" She said as she squinted and wrote some numbers on the expense files that Briant had given her.  
"You lied to Eppy to save the sexy incarnation of Satan," Jon said licking his lips intrigued as he mindlessly played with a pencil. Poll, like when around her, remained quiet. "I have no idea what you are talking about," she said focused on the paper.  
"Bollocks!" Lemon exclaimed. He slammed a fist on the table making everything shake. "I will find out Sage Marie O'Shea!"

She froze this caught her attention.

"How do you know my middle name?" She lowered the paper, eyeing Jon suspiciously.  
Jon's thin lips stretched into a smirk. He reminded Sage of a sly fox who had just gotten what he wanted. "I'll tell if you tell," he wiggled his bushy eyebrows.  
'Not worth it' she thought. She decided to ignore him and simply returned to her accounting. Growing bored and in need of a distraction Jon stood up and without a word he left the room.  
It was just Sage and Poll, not that she minded, she knew he wouldn't talk to her. Which was fine because it allowed her to finish correcting Isabel's mistakes.

Meanwhile outside of the meeting room, after receiving a scolding from Briant; Isabel sat in her desk in an attempt to figure out just what had happened. It was then that her phone rang. She immediately answered, "Hello?" She said.  
She greeted the familiar voice on the other side of the line.  
"I told you not to call me to this number!" She whispered in a hushed tone.  
"I almost got fired today... I know, I know... I'm working on it!"  
The mysterious person on the other side of the phone line sounded very demanding.  
"Good things take time, give me a couple more days and I promise you I'll have something for you," she assure the person. "Someone is coming now, bye!" Isabel hung up.  
Sage's eyes squinted at Jon's account. While the four men were beginning to have ridiculous spending- well there was just something odd about Jon's account. There were large sums of money missing that lead to nowhere and had no trace. It was just plain fishy...

"How'd you like the glasses?" She was surprised by the voice. She put down the papers and touched the edge of her new glasses. She couldn't believe it. She looked at Poll surprised.  
"I felt terrible for breaking them, it's my way of properly apologizing," he offered her a charming smile. She looked at him unsure of how to respond. A thank you would've sufficed.  
"I thought you hated me," she blurted. She instantly regretted the moment that her words left her mouth. "Hate? I thought you were the one who didn't fancy me!"  
Sage allowed a humorous breath to escape her nose.  
"Like I told George this morning, I'm not paid to like you four. Just to do your accounting."  
"So how do you-like us?" Poll asked relaxing into his chair.  
"I haven't decided if I like you or not yet-" she began, "but I know for sure that that damn Lemon is a prick!"

Poll chuckled. "Ah, Jon can be hard around the edges, but he's a soft hearted lad," he explained. She shook her head and once again glued her eyes to the papers she had on her hands. "That's what everyone keeps saying," she said with both of her eyebrows raised in disbelief.  
"Is this going to take much longer?" Poll suddenly asked and uncrossed his legs.  
"Afraid so," she said not taking her eyes off the papers. "Say, how about this, I'm free tomorrow afternoon. Why don't you swing by my house and drop them off, we can have some tea. Yeah?"  
She blinked twice surprised, "uh, sure?" It sounded more like a question.  
"Gear!" He slid a paper with his phone and address across the table.  
"See you then Sage Marie. Ta!" He waved away with a wink and left.  
Sage sat in her seat stunned, she hadn't realized that her ears were burning from embarrassment. What had just happened? Was Poll just flirting with her?  
She shook her head, no of course not. That was impossible.


	4. Chapter 4

The following day Sage exited the building. She swung her bag over her shoulder and made her way home.

On her way she not only carried George and Dingo's accounts now but Jon and Poll's as well. "Sage!" She suddenly heard a voice call. She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to see Isabel who was exiting the building.

"Thank you!" She ran out and embraced her. "You saved my life!" She exclaimed.

"Not your life, just your job," she clarified in a bored tone.

"Still!" She said removing herself from the Munter.

"Why did you do it?" She asked the million dollar question with her brown eyes wide.

"If I had just stood by, it wouldn't have made me any better than you," she said darkly before turning and making her way home. "I'm sorry!" She called out after the brunette who only kept walking on her way home.

"Mum! I'm home!" She called once she arrived home, but surprisingly her mother wasn't home. "Odd..." she said to herself.

She made way to the living room and began to play an old Sinatra record. At the same time, the papers hanging down her shoulder weighted down with burden. She starred at the neat little paper where Poll had written his phone number and address.

She decided to phone him.

She nervously played with the phone cord as she called, it was then that a gruff voice, much too rough to be Poll's picked up in the other line. "Hello?" The voice said.

"Hello?" She retorted. "Hi- good evening is Poll there?"

Suddenly a dead tone ringing greeted her ears. She looked at the phone confused. She called again thinking that the call was lost, but nothing.

Deciding to get over with her day she once again dressed in her coat, matching gloves and scarf and made way to Poll's house. Before she did the phone rang. It could only be him.

"Yes Poll?" She picked up on the second ring.

"Poll?" It was a woman's voice. "Why is Poll phoning you?" She asked.

"Isabel..." she greeted curtly. "Never the mind, Sage, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come over? So that we could go over some accounting questions?" Without any hesitation she hung up the phone. She had already done enough for that woman.

That's when she left to Poll's home which strangely wasn't too far away. Once she arrived, she looked down at the note, it was the right address.

It was a simple red brick house with a luscious green garden. Approaching the front door she rang the doorbell. The door opened and an older man opened the door. He visible cringed when he saw Sage and with a groaning noise slammed it on her face.

"Hey!" She protested banging on the door. This was the right address, she was certain.

"I'll tell lol you something girly, you're not the first or the last to come by today, but you really are the ugliest one!" The grouchy man said in a rough voice.

"I'm here to see Poll!" She shouted.

"Oh, I know. You're the one that's been ringing incessantly! And oh don't event get me started-" she could hear him stepping away.

"I work for Briant Epstone!" She shouted. "Poll asked me to come deliver some papers," she explained breathlessly. The bald man opened the door wide this time and eyed her curiously with mistrusting eyes. "If you don't believe me, here," she handed him a note. "It's his handwriting." It was.

Moving aside like a troll block an entrance the older man moved and allowed her in. The house which smelled like new. She figured he probably had just moved here.

Leading her to the living room he sat her down before heading to the kitchen.

He returned escorting two young girls out of the house.

"Ladies, thank you for cleaning my floor, dishes and shelves. I promise you, I'll ring you when Poll gets here. Buh-bye," he waved as they left.

They both called out a "Thank you Mr. Macartney" and left.

By the resemblance and attitude Sage could only figure that tie man was Poll's father.

"Sorry about that," he began as he clapped his hands off as if dusting them off.

"They are driving me absolutely insane! Ringing all day, breaking into my home. These two offered to clean, figured they might as well make them useful," he chuckled.

Sage sat uncomfortable in the new living room with her legs shut tight and her bag hugged in her arms nervously.

"Tea and biscuits?" He offered.

The woman uncomfortably sat with Jim Macartney, Poll's father, she wasn't sure what to say. Then again she had never been good at making conversation.

"You're not like the others," he said wisely as he sipped on some tea. "I know these things. If I may ask- why don't you shriek and sob like the others do with my son? Or lust after him like a rabbit in heat?"

Sage rudely spluttered some of the Tea she had been sipping back in the cup she had been drinking from. She put the cup down and cleared her throat.

"Well sir, I'm a professional you see? I work for a Briant Epstone and the rest of the band, that is, including your son. I'm his accountant." She explained.

"A working woman," he nodded impressed. "I was young once as well- so if you would just tell me the real reason," his tone changed to a bored one.

Mr. Macartney really didn't beat around the bush.

"Well," Sage took in a deep breath and let out an uneasy laughter.

"You said it yourself, I'm the ugliest girl that's come by the house all day long," she shrugged. "And yet- you don't allow that pessimistic opinion to defeat you. You really are different," he sipped some of his tea wisely.

"I'm a realistic person Mr. Macartney, I am well aware that your son or any other Beatle or man would be sent to a mad house if they even considered laying their eyes on me. I know that perhaps beauty isn't my affinity, but I'm pretty brilliant in other areas. Also at the end of the day they are just humans like you and me," she offered with a small smile.

He couldn't help but chuckle. "Well best watch out for Pollie, that's never stopped him before," he wiggled his arched eyebrows.

"Dad!" It was Poll. The voice came from upstairs. He came down from the stairs with his hair soaking wet. He was dressed in casual clothes and wearing his house slippers. His face was pink and he looked terribly embarrassed.

"What are you doing you twisted old man?" He protested as he joined them in the living room. He looked around swiftly for the fan girls. "Are they gone?" He said in a hushed tone.

"Oh, relax son. Yes, they are gone. These girls are starting to come in handy, they're cheaper than a maid!" He said with both his brows raised.

"They steal my underwear and socks dad!" Poll protested.

"You don't even live here!" The other retorted.

"Sorry that you got stuck here with my old man. I hope he didn't bore you to death," Poll apologized. "Bored her? Ms. O'Shea has proven to be one of the most pleasant conversation that I've had in weeks! All of your other girls are all brain dead 'where's Poll?' 'Can I see his pictures?' 'Poll this yadda, yadda,'" he rolled his eyes. "It's refreshing y have someone that doesn't want to talk about you all the time!"

Poll ran a hand through his hair nervously. "Yeah, remember that you were just going to bed?" Poll said through gritted teeth.

Mr. Macartney waved him up and made his way upstairs.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll leave you two kids at it."

Poll sighed and shook his head.

"Sorry about him, he gets lonely in the city. More so, now that I don't live with him." He sighed. "Oh, that's fine. My mother is the same," Sage nodded understanding.

"I'm remodeling my pad so I'm crashing with old Jim for the time being."

There was an awkward silence. Sage was unsure of how to proceed. She fidgeted with her thumbs as she eyed the door nervously.

"Some scotch?" She was caught off guard by Poll preparing himself a drink.

"N-No thanks," she answered warily, "I don't drink," she explained.

He raised his eyebrows surprised. "Try it then, it won't kill ya," he said with. A smile as he poured her a cold glass old fashioned scotch. She thanked him quietly.

Her mind was racing. She was looking at him. Poll had been nicknamed "the cute Beatle" by the obsessive group of groupies that stalked and followed the Beetles around. With his perfectly arched eyebrows, full lips, petite nose and bedroom eyes it was clear he was one of the most handsome Beetles if not the most.

Sage took a small drink from her scotch, she had seen people do this in flickers whenever they got nervous. She groaned as the bitter drink burned down her throat. She continued coughing violently.

"Hey easy there, it's not lemonade," Poll said after a chuckle. "Water?" He offered kindly. Through coughs she nodded. As soon as he was gone she swung her coat on and made a go for the door.

She was about to reach the doorknob when he caught her.

"Running away?" She could almost hear the smirk on his lips. Sage felt her face burning a bright shade of red. She turned and indeed saw him with a smug grin n his face. In his other hand he held the glass of water.

"It's late, it's getting dark. I best get going," she answered with a raspy throat.

"Nonsense!" He replied approaching her and hanging her the glass of water. He turned and began putting on his coat and scarf. "A lady should never walk home at night unescorted," he said picking up a set of car keys. "Come on, I'll drive you home."

"No. It's close by-" she protested but he simply pushed her out the door . Outside he ducked his damp hair from the November winter. "Poll!" She opposed. "I'll be fine, I swear. Nobody is going to talk or do anything to me. Even the street dogs won't pick a bone with me!"

"Inside," he simply said as he opened the car door for her. Without another choice she stepped inside. She sat inside of his nice car stiffly. She clenched her shaky hands. This was so innapropiate, nothing good could come out of this, she knew it. He clearly didn't like her, he couldn't like her. Not one boy had ever fancied her, and the one that had- well... let's just say it didn't work out.

He got in the drivers sit and turned to smile at the nervous girl sitting on the passengers seat. She returned him an awkward tight lipped smile. He set on the ignition and drove on. Sage gave him her address timidly.

Neither exchanged a word during the entire car ride.

"Music?" Poll said as he turned on the radio.

"Yes music!" She retorted louder than she intended. Her nerves jumping at every single movement or turn that he made. Finally they were outside of her house. The home was your stereotypical middle lower class British home. It wasn't a novel, but it was nothing too fancy.

"Thank you very much Poll, goodnight!" She said hurriedly as she opened the door. "Sage wait!" His hand reached for her arm holding her in place. She was afraid to look at him.

"I'll confess," he began. "I invited you home with an ulterior motive."

She looked at him with her eyes wide. For a moment she swore that her heart stopped. It wasn't possible. His grip rightened in the fabric of her coat. He looked st her terrified expression. "I actually wanted to offer you a job," he said shortly.

Sage felt as if all the weight that she had been carrying on her shoulders simply slipped and was gone. She let out a breath and her pose relaxed. Thank God.

Then again, she was right, it was impossible that anyone could develop feelings for her. "A job?" She responded.

"Yes, full time." He clarified. "It's nothing grand. You see, I know the band is only going to grow more. Beatle- what's the tellie calling it, Beatle-mania, is only picking up and I know that we're going to need all the help we can get. Specially with Briant with his hands full with the four of us. Point is, I know that perhaps you'd prefer a more intelectuales challenging job, since you do numbers and all but-"

"Poll! The point!" She said anxiously.

He looked at her for a moment and paused. His mother, may she Rest In Peace, had always taught Poll that the eye of a person are the windows to their soul. And ever since he had seen Sage's green ones, he knew that he had really seen her. He was stunned. From that moment on he began observing her. He saw what Sage was really like. He observed the way that the mousy girl would scurry about in the office almost as if she was hiding herself from others. The way that she would take Jon and Isabel's constant insults. He thought he had her pinned as simply an introverted person, and he wouldn't help but wonder who could've hurt her so much to become like this?

It was when she stood up for Isabel that really threw him off. He couldn't understand why she would do such a thing. He didn't know if to think of her in high esteems or as if just being really, really dumb. Well- because of this, he assume that she was a loyal person, a luxury that he hadn't been able to afford lately.

She was noble, intelligent, a hard worker and a complete wallflower. Even his girlfriends wouldn't be jealous if they saw him with her!

Poll knew that soon the size of their staff would double if not triple. He had to get his hands on her before George or Dingo got clever with him.

"Point is... Sage, you're a woman whom I don't have to pray to the Lord to throw some brains down from heaven. You're efficient-" he saw her dull expression.

"Right the point-" he mumbled to himself. "I want you to be my personal assistant," he finished.

She went mute, her mouth agape. She was absolutely speechless.

"I'll pay you handsomely, twice whatever it is that Briant is paying you."

It took her a moment to regain her composure. "I-I don't know what to say," she flabbergasted. "Poll, I'm flattered, I really am, but I'm over qualified. I studied accountability that's what I want to do with my life, numbers."

"Which is why I'm paying you more," he pressed.

"I'm sorry, but I can't." She said shaking her head, "I didn't kill my self to be number one in my class just to end up as- an assistant." She said lowly sounding disappointed. He let go of her arm and she excited the car.

Poll was star struck, had she just rejected his offer?

He rolled down the window as she rushed up the stairs.

"This is exactly why I need you!" He shouted after her. She froze in her steps and turned to face him in the cold night. Hands shoved deep inside of her pockets. She looked at him expecting him to continue. to her surprise he even got off his car and stepped towards her. She looked at his tall frame approaching her. He looked at her clearly, maybe he had been completely wrong about her.

He guessed there were simlply something's that money couldn't buy.

He opened his mouth but no sound came out, his brows furrowed. "Thanks for the ride," she mumbled before reaching her door.

"You are one of the few people that see and treat me- actually treat us. As actually human beings." He stopped for a moment before continuing.

"You don't put me or the others in a godly pedestal, or disgustingly throw yourself at us like the others. You know how to respect yourself, which makes you an even more valuable team asset." He licked his lips, "Please?" He begged, both of his eyebrows pulled together in pleading.

"Goodnight Poll," she simply said.


	5. Chapter 5

_Wednesday February 27, 1964_

 _It was even colder now that it had been back in November. Sage hadn't seen the Beetles since the last year; at least not in person. It was official Beetlemania was alive, dangerous and real. Chaos seemed to follow them wherever they traveled._

 _Just a month earlier Meet the Beetles! had been released in the United States. The band even traveled to New York were they were met with thousands of American fans, then they stayed at the Plaza Hotel, one if not the nicest hotel in New York. That same week the band set a record since 73 million people watched The Beetles in The Ed Sullivan Show. In a brief conclusion of the events that had transpired since the 64' began, the band's fame was only beginning to skyrocket. Their American Tour had been a success and after months of discussing it, the group was to start filming their first movie. They were to name is "Beetlemania._

 _It was almost March and Sage had come to actually enjoy her job. Her routine was simple and way less chaotic without the four men being in British territory. Briant had also been gone so she had been enjoying the silence at the office.  
Isabel had actually been nice to Sage since that one day when Sage saved her skin. Every now and then she would make an off-comment about her appearance such as: you'd look fab if you wore a different skirt- if you changed your hair- if you tried this lipstick. If you walked like this!" She would say as she walked around the office with her back straight and designer heels. They no longer had competition since Isabel had been- willingly demoted?_

 _Briant's long time secretary became pregnant and had to take a leave. Everyone doubted she was combing back, so Isabel had gladly filled in for her. And boy was she good at her job. She looked the part, ignored calls when Briant was busy, kept guest entertained with her notorious flirtation and was obsessed with all the big names that called the now handled all four of their accounts and she was also very good at it. All numbers calculated with exact precision. Taxes filled out on time and the boys received a monthly letter that she signed stating their monthly expenses and accounts. It was suddenly when she heard ruckus inside of Briant's office that she stepped out. Briant was there, along with the group. Oh no, they were finally back from the United States. Her heart sunk when she laid eyes on Poll who was starring at her intensely. During his absence Poll had sent a ridiculous amount of letters and gifts all reading the same thing, he had written and signed every single one._

 _"Sage Marie, Please be my assistant. - Poll Macartney"_

 _Flower baskets, fruit baskets, soap baskets, baskets filled with alcohol. Anything you could imagine he had sent it to her home. It got to the point that she had ran out of excuses and simply told her mother they were thank you gifts from her four separate clients. She felt awful seeing how much he was spending on her (because she actually saw those numbers) and every single time she would write a letter back thanking him, but politely refusing. It seemed like the more she said no, the more he persisted. It was imposible!_

 _Jon visibly cringed making a scene as she stepped out of her office.  
"I'd forgotten what she looked like," Jon said obnoxiously drawing everyone's attention to him._

 _"Lemon!" Briant said in an irked tone. George visibly rolled his eyes at him. Poll did nothing.  
Upset. Briant asked the Beetles to leave the room. All except for Poll, Sage was about to leave when he stopped her. Shit. she already knew what this was about. Briant politely asked how she had been in his absence, he talked a little about the shows that they had performed but didn't go much into detail._

 _"Sage, you've been doing a spectacular job. So don't be nervous," he said reading her upset expression.  
"I'm not," she turned to glare at Poll.  
"I have a feeling you already know what this is about," Briant said glancing between the growing tension that the two shared.  
"I do'" she said not breaking eye contact with Macartney.  
"Well then, Poll has been extremelyinsistent, that he wants you to work for him, only him, personally," Briant exclaimed.  
"He's willing to give you a raise, you'd travel with him and the group, sleep in the nicest hotels, the best restaurants." He continued.  
"Think of it as a promotion-" he said nervously._

 _She looked at both of them with unease. "Would I be able to continue working in finance and accounting?" She asked peering her eyes towards Briant._

 _"No- you'd train someone else," he was interrupted.  
"I quit," she said dramatically. Briant almost had a heart attack on the spot. "What? No, Sage-"She absolutely lost it.  
"I will not be his assistant if he's asking me to put my career on the line," she simply said.  
"Sage, no one is asking you to put your career on the line-" Poll persuaded with an agitated voice.  
"Why does it have to be me?!"_

 _Meanwhile outside of the room sat Dingo by himself in the outside lobby. His eyes kept on glancing towards Isabel who sat in her new desk looking like the golden goddess she was. George had gone to get food and Lemon was making a phone call. It was perfect. They made eye contact, he smiled at her. She didn't,_

 _Mustering all of his courage he manned up, walking tall and puffing up his chest he marched towards her. "Isabel," he cleared his throat._

 _"Richard," she greeted back in an annoyed tone._

 _He instantly felt discouraged, but now there was no backing out._

 _"Will you go out with me, t-tonight?" He said mustering all the confidence he had. She stood up and while standing he realized that she was at least half a head taller than him. This made him feel even smaller. She was abs lately out of his reach,"My answer is simple, one word," she said leaning in closer to him. N-O," she spelled poking his large nose.  
"Why won't you go out with me?" He asked feeling heart broken._

 _Isabel sighed and pretentiously brought a hand to her chest.  
"I will not settle for less!"  
They both suddenly heard shouting from the inside of Briant's private office. Both heads turned to face the door, when out of it barged a furious Sage and Poll who was following after her. Briant followed after both._

 _"Don't you understand? Poll you are acting like a spoilt teddy boy, one who can't get the toy that he fancies!"_

 _"Christ, you are not a toy! You are a valuable asset! We already told you, that you'd be promoted-"  
"Macartney!" Epstone scolded as he regained his breath. He sighed exasperated and waved a hand before he retreated to his office locking the door behind and Isabel exchanged a concerned look._

 _"Listen-" Sage stood her ground outside.  
"For the last time. No!" She barked.  
"Why-! I just, don't understand," Poll shouted back almost pulling on his hair. Sage just couldn't comprehend just why he had become so fixated with her and obsessed with this idea. She liked him way better when he just pretended she didn't exist. At this point, they were both standing outside of the building in the sidewalk.  
"Because," at this point fat tears had begun to slip down her face.  
"I don't belong in your world," she bagan choking up. "But you-"_

 _"No," She said sternly sneering at him with eyes like slits.  
"How many women do you know in the business industry? Prepared with a financial career or accounting?" She didn't even give Poll a moment to answer. "I don't think many. I don't have the luxury that other women have, I can't marry. I have to work for myself," her palms dropped to the sides.  
"Why not?" He dared asked.  
"Are you blind?! I'm a Munter! Why would anyone even think of getting with me," she sobbed, violently wiping the tears from her eyes. She had never confessed this to anyone. Some people passing by warily eyed the arguing due. Poll remained silent.  
"Look at me!" She shouted, stomping a foot down.  
"I am," he said seriously. She removed her glasses and dried her eyes._

 _"Ah, I'm sorry..." she said momentarily, catching her breath.  
"Point is, I don't belong in your world. Like it or not I'll become an accessory of your team and I'll be judged for it and so will you," she said sadly. It was true, when sitting in a room with them Sage stood out like a sore thumb. She wasn't gorgeous, graceful or even witty like the others. She was just- the Munter._

 _"Sage," he looked at her with hard eyes.  
"Maybe you're the one that's blind... because while you see that, I see-" he paused for a moment.  
"I-I don't now what it is, but I can tell you're very special," he finished in a defeated felt like she couldn't breath.  
She swallowed the river of tears that was about to spill down her cheeks. The last time someone had called her special, regardless of how sincere it had sounded... well things had just gone south that one time. "Just... Just leave me alone," she cried weakly before realizing she dropped her scarf in the dirty sidewalk._

 _Walking in defeat with a sigh Poll picked it up and held on to the purple accessory. For a moment he wondered if he'd ever see her again.  
"Ugh! Don't touch that mate! It might be contagious!" Jon who had been observing the entire time grabbed the scarf and tossed it up in the air.  
"Sod off," Poll, said irked as he stormed away back into the building."You're special, I want you to work for me," Jon said in a mocking tone as he wrapped the scarf around his head like the Buffon he was. Poll didn't understand why they had baptized Jon as the "Smart Beatle."  
"I know it's impossible, but if I didn't know any better I'd say you have a crush on our little monster, eh? Macca?" Jon asked taunting him. Poll glared at him and snacked the scarf back from him again. He simply gave Jon the finger and walked away._

 _Sage sprinted to the closest alley she found. She didn't want to take the tube crying or even walk in the cold with her wet face like this. She sobbed as she leaned her weight on her knees next to a massive trash can. She grossly wiped her tears and snot with the back of her arm. Leaning against the wall she focused on her breathing in an attempt to calm herself down._

 _"I guess you found my sulking spot," a melancholic voice spoke. She instantly snapped out of her crying and peeked behind the trash can to see no one other than Dingo leaning against the opposite wall, a cigarette in hand as he sulked. Sage nodded and braced herself ready to leave.  
"I don't mind sharing," he mumbled.  
"My mother didn't raise me to be greedy," he said with a small smile."What are you doing here?" She asked as she clapped her puffy face to a paler color.  
"Same thing you are, sulking. This is the back of the office and the back of Sparky' pub. I used to go in, but now I can't unless I'm wearing a disguise," he shrugged as he finished his cigarette.  
"Let's go in," he didn't even ask._

 _Feeling lost and insecure she followed. Dingo went in through the backdoor and was lead to a secret balcony upstairs. From the inside balcony you could see all the tables and the bar below. They both sat in the single table that they had set up.  
"They know me here already," he said after he ordered two pints for the, to share.  
"N-No thanks, I don't drink," she said shyly as she rejected the beer.  
"Waiter bring her another one," he snapped his fingers.  
"Dingo, this is really nice, but I can't accept this. I just quit and I need to find a job and-" he interrupted her.  
"You're heartbrokened, a drink is the best cure," he explained.  
"Heartbrokened?" She retorted at the outrageous accusation. He took a sip of his beer.  
"By who Poll?" She said rolling her eyes picking up the mug and taking the first drink, she made a face the strong flavor not being to her taste.  
"No, by you!" He said pointing his index ring finger at her. She looked at him confused.  
"Poll is beside the point, a I don't know why he's so fixated on you, he hasn't shut his gap about having you as his "personal assistant," or whatever. He won't take anyone else either." She sat in her chair uncomfortably. It was true, Poll could have any single woman or man that he wanted kissing his ass and massaging his feet, but despite it he wanted her to be there for him.  
"I don't get you, I really don't," he shook his head as he lit another cigarette. He offered her one.  
"Let me guess, you don't smoke either?" She simply smiled sheepishly. He shook his head and handed her a ciggy, "terrible influence I am-corrupting you." He chuckled.  
He proceeded to explain to her how to smoke and she almost threw up twice before getting the hang of it.  
"This is disgusting!" She said outing it off in the table ashtray. She attempted to remove the taste by drinking more beer.  
"No, you know what's disgusting. The way you see yourself," Dingo snapped getting back into the subject.  
"What do you know?" She scoffed.  
"Odds are I'm the ugliest Beatle," he deadpanned seriously. "But I don't let that get me down!" He said in a determined tone._

 _It was then that Sage noticed that out of all four of the, Dingo was the only one that was always dressed nicely. His vanity also reflected in his costly accessory, his rings.  
"Isabelle rejects me, it sucks yeah, but the only thing one can do is get back in the horse and keep ridding!"  
"Yeah?" She said taking another sip, being a buzzkill.  
"Yeah and you- I know that there's a beautiful woman inside of you, but you don't know it yet- which makes you the most dangerous type." He reached over and removed her eyeglasses. "Dangerous?"  
"You see, most women that are 'born pretty' don't feel the need to develop a personality. They don't need to-" Sage glared at him._

 _That was so unfair! It was absolutely not true!_

 _"I know what you're thinking like Isabel-"  
"No," Sage protested.  
"I'm thinking of my friend Lori, she's gorgeous, and like the nicest person I've ever known! Well, besides you, this is really nice," she thanked him. "George said you were alright, I believe it," he grinned.  
She couldn't help but grin again before getting side tracked. He returned back to the conversation. He was already on his third pint, Sage was beginning her second.  
"Of you're so bothered by your appearance, why don't you change it?"She was about to out on her glasses again but he Retested to leave them off.  
"Well I would love to, but- My mother was quite the looker when she was younger, because of this she says that she got knocked up. My father was an American soldier, he never knew," she shrugged.  
"She says nothing good can come from being a pretty girl."  
"bull-shiteee" he drawled out. "Come here," he said urging her to sit closer. She did he held her chin in her hands and moved her head around in an attempt to perceive all of her angles.  
"I think you've got quite the potential," he said in a low voice._

 _"Real-" she was interrupted._

 _He kissed her for a moment he was paralyzed._

 _"Hmm.. yeah nothing," he said casually sitting back in his chair._

 _She gawked at his shocked._

 _"What? Just wanted to see if there was a spark," he said casually "You know? Ugly bird? Ugly lad? Thought there might've been some chemistry." She wiped her lips with the back of her hand drank more beer. He laughed loudly enjoying this._

 _"Aw it wasn't that bad- wait, don't tell me, was I your first?!" He exclaimed shocked.  
"No," she said unfazed, briefly flash backing to her first kiss. "Do you go around just kissing random people?"  
"Yes, it's my favorite hobby," he said sarcastically.  
"I'm trying to see if anyone or anything will get my mind off Isabel, but so far there has been no success. I think I'm going crazy, I go to sleep thinking of her, wake up and the first thing I want to do is see her. She's- she's just everywhere I look," he said in a dreamy tone as his blue eyes clouded with emotion. Sage cringed. Isabel had gotten a lot better since her first month in the job, but she still treated Dingo like dirt._

 _"Honestly, you can do so much better," she said finished her beer._

 _"So can you."_

 _He said finishing his beer. He raised it and they both roster clinking their glasses._


End file.
